This story is a derivative fanwork written by GodandMen for the Toaru Majutsu no Index/とある魔術の禁書目録 franchise.
SIGILS
II
-x-
"Jim, do you know what domestic violence means?"
"Yes ma'am. It's when the husband drinks too much vodka and smacks his wife."
"Well…yes, I suppose that counts. But women can be abusers too, you know."
"Japanese women drink vodka?"
Yomikawa shook her head. He was hopeless.
"That's not my point, Jim. My point is that we're walking into a potentially delicate family situation."
Yomikawa closed the car door and locked it. Jim got out as well.
"Of course, ma'am."
"So how exactly do you think a fully-extended baton will help with that?"
Jim shrugged.
"I mean, we can't just shoot the man. Wait…can we? You have a gun, right?"
"No! We can't just shoot people! We're here to assess and defuse the situation. Our priority is to protect the victim, if there is one. So put the damn thing away!"
Jim made a nasty scowl but obeyed her order.
Lieutenant Yomikawa looked around the neighborhood, taking in the surroundings. They had driven into sector ALO-N 16.
It was a typical Japanese suburb within Academy City that was filled with separate, individual houses designed for small families. She wondered if the neighbors had made the call.
She tapped her fingers steadily on her stab vest.
The neighborhood seemed unusually quiet. There were only a few lights turned on. Furthermore, Jim was acting strange. He made no complaints when she asked him to respond with her.
In fact he was unusually quiet, eager almost, about coming with her.
Her eyes wandered across the pavement.
She spotted a small puddle of oil in one of the parking spaces.
These tire marks…
"Alright Jim, follow me. Let's go to the house the caller mentioned."
The door was open.
Yomikawa slowly slid through the small wooden gate – left ajar – and peeked inside the open doorway. Pieces of a broken vase littered the dark entrance. There were no lights turned on in the entire house. She heard Jim slowly unsheathing the baton from his vest.
"Ma'am?"
"Go around and watch the back. In one minute I'll start knocking. If anyone comes out, try and stop them. But don't go overboard and get yourself hurt."
"Are you going in alone? I don't think – "
"I'll be fine, Jim. Just make sure your earpiece and radio is on."
He melted into the shadows.
"Hello! Is anyone home!? I'm from Anti-Skill! Someone reported a disturbance! Is everything alright?"
Jim heard Yomikawa's loud voice echoing from the front…then the distinct sound of her hands knocking on the door. He steadied his breathing and adjusted his grip on the baton. Jim badly wished that he had a gun with him, or at least a knife; anything was better than this flimsy stick.
"I'm coming inside! Sorry for disturbing!"
He thought he heard the faint sound of the door creaking open, but he wasn't sure. What followed was an agonizing wait as Jim simply sat there, crouching behind a trash can. His eyes were intendedly watching the back door of the house.
He waited and waited…
The earpiece crackled to life.
"Jim, it's all clear. Come in from the back and check the kitchen, then upstairs. Then meet me in the living room."
He rose up in a flash and shot past the backdoor, which he realized was also left ajar. He could see a stray beam of light in the hallway: Yomikawa's flashlight. He snapped his own on and quickly scanned the kitchen.
There was an acidic smell in the air.
But he did not have the time to investigate further. Once he made sure the kitchen was clear, he went up the stairs to the second floor.
The second story of the house only had two rooms; a study and a small bed room. Jim resisted the urge to kick in the doors. Instead he simply opened them with his hands and he found them to be deserted as well.
"Kitchen and upstairs all clear, ma'am."
"Come down, you'll want to see this."
As Jim descended down the stairs his nose picked up the acidic smell again.
He found Yomikawa in the living room, kneeling over something. The bright beam of her flash light illuminated her face; it was an expression of concentration and focus. Jim looked at what Yomikawa was so intensely studying.
It was a dead body.
Woman. Mid-thirties. His eyes looked over her bloodied clothing. They were very mature and provocative. Expensive clothes, high class. There were a lot of pink cards scattered around. Pink business cards. Prostitute. Sex worker. Yomikawa's flash light shone across the body's neck, revealing a line of red bruises. Choked. Strangled. The body was sprawled across the center of the living room. Jim remembered the anonymous call.
The husband.
"It's always the damn vodka."
Yomikawa shook her head slowly and pointed to a mass of object to her right. Jim shifted his flash light and saw that it was a large duffle bag. Beside it were several large plastic commonly used for the large 120 litre bins.
But what surprised him was the sudden flash of his flashlight reflecting off the saw blades.
He saw a wide array of saw blades laid on the floor, all neatly arranged from smallest to largest.
Jim slowly turned to her.
"Yep…first he kills the victim, and then he cuts them into smaller pieces. After that he puts the pieces into plastic bags and dispose of them somewhere far away from the crime scene."
The lieutenant stood up with a grim expression.
"She is Suspect A's fourth victim."
It was the serial killer.
"Did you call it in, ma'am?"
"Yes. The task force will be here soon."
There was a short, heavy pause.
"Well, if that's the case," Jim said slowly, "then we should see what we can find before they trample all over the scene, right?"
Yomikawa stared at him for a moment before a shadowy smile spread across her face.
"Yes…you're right. Jim, go and check the yard outside and the backdoor. I'll see what I can find here."
She handed him a pair of forensic gloves before slapping one on her own hands. Jim couldn't help but wonder just how many pairs she carried on her. He snapped the gloves on his hands quickly.
He stepped out into the cool spring night.
The first thing he did was take a deep breath.
He looked around the yard with experienced eyes. It was a small courtyard covered in grass and some bushes. He smiled at his luck. He wondered what exactly Yomikawa had in mind when she ordered him to check the courtyard.
Did she know?
No, it was unlikely. Very few people knew about his past, not even a lot of the jackals he met in Sofia. Well, at least not this part of his past. Only a few of those who had fought with him in Krakozhia knew. And most of them were long dead.
He knelt down on one knee and ran his hands across the blades of grass.
Jim closed his eyes and steadied his breathing.
Robbed of his vision, all of his other senses came to life, stronger than ever.
Jim savored the sensation of the cool night air, the weight of the vest on his body, the soft earth beneath his fingers, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He mustered all of his will and beckoned the darkness to him. Everything faded away as a terrible, suffocating silence descended upon him.
He recited the words once whispered to him:
Forget.
You must forget, here in the Woods you must forget.
If you seek to leave this place, you must learn to forget everything.
Your past, your life, your humanity…
The darkness swirled around him. He recited the oath, the whisper he once spoke with trembling lips, many years ago in the deep, dark woods. He knelt there for a moment and allowed the Night to sweep over his body.
He stood up and, with his eyelids securely shut, opened his eyes.
He saw, in a blueish glow he could not describe properly, the small footprints leading across the grassy courtyard. His fingers brushed over the flattened grass but he felt no heat, only a light coldness. He made sure to use his right hand but a phantom pain still ached in his left.
Magic.
The footprints were shallow. He measured the strides with his palm. They were rather short.
Someone small, someone light.
He followed the footprints to a large window looking out from the living room. There was a small, low ledge protruding from the window. He saw a pair of slippers on the ledge. They too had the cold blue essence swirling about them.
Jim saw the footprints leading onto the ledge. There was a pair of footprints – barefoot prints, with no shoes – beside the window, but to the side, just barely hidden from the view of someone within the living room.
Jim looked inside and saw a tall figure within the living room. He saw the bright colors swirling and radiating from her body. It was a vivid painting of anger and frustration being suppressed by a harsh, icy calmness. He saw her pacing around the lifeless body methodically and examining every detail, and with each movement her emotions bled more and more into the air.
What really stood out to him was the stain around the body.
Jim saw that there was a glowing green stain surrounding the corpse. It glowed with a mistakable magical aura. He could see that there seemed to be some shape positioned around the victim, but it was blotched and smeared by the great stain.
A magic circle?
The cold footprints led inside.
He saw that there were several other pairs of footprints in the living room, excluding his own and that of Yomikawa's. He walked back to the entrance and saw that, in addition to the cold one, there were two other pairs of footprints.
One was red hot with heat. It was all too familiar. He had seen it in the warehouse. In fact it was what he had directed his flying knives towards. He swore that he could even smell the flour dust.
Fuck, it's her.
The other, however, had a faint, familiar green glow to it. Jim tightened his jaws when he recognized it to be the same aura as the stain around the victim.
The serial killer's a magician.
A painful ache slowly crept its way up Jim's left arm. He could feel it hungering for the taste of magic. He gripped it roughly and dug his finger nails into his muscles.
Jim looked up again and tracked the footprints leading through the entrance towards the living room. He could even see the trail lead somewhere further inside, towards the kitchen in the bhack.
He made another cursory glance around; no, there was nothing else to be found around the exterior of the entrance.
It was time to enter the house.
He raised his boots to simply step through the pieces of the broken vase at the entrance, but he remembered that he was in a crime scene. So he carefully stepped over it. That way, he wouldn't shift the pieces around and make life difficult for the task force.
As he was doing so, his eyes suddenly spotted something. He saw that there was a small symbol glowing on the wall, beside a small table, in the spot right where the vase would have been before it fell.
The aura of the glow was blue and cold, just like the small footprints. He touched it with his left hand. His fingertips burned with pain as the symbol disappeared.
A magic spell.
He sighed at this new revelation.
Two magicians.
Jim decided to look over the reception area of the entrance. He noted that there was a spot that glowed brightly with heat, as if the red footprints walked inside the doorway and proceeded to stop in one spot for a long time. Then the red footprints started moving again. It seemed as if the red footprint was chasing the green magical one.
He followed the footprints down the hallway. He saw that while there was some messy overlap, the three unknown footprints all eventually led to the kitchen and towards the direction of the back door.
However there was a divergence at the kitchen.
Jim saw another magical symbol on the backdoor. It was blue and cold as well, most likely in the same magic as the symbol by the door. It was cast by the person who made the cold footprints.
The small cold footprints circled around the kitchen several times before leading out a small window high up on the kitchen wall. The red and green magical footprints led out the backdoor. Jim decided to check the cold footprints first.
As he walked through the kitchen the acidic smell assaulted his nose again.
He circled around outside to the small window. There was a small area of flattened grass just below it. The grass was tainted with the distinctive coldness.
Jim followed the cold footprints until they disappeared over the low wall and onto the pavement. He knew that he could not track it on the concrete so he studied the path taken by the cold footprints. He could tell that the person was running and that the person ran past several tall bushes before reaching the wall.
Jim observed that there were several broken branches on the ground. He turned around and extended his arms inside the bush. His fingers reached inside, parting some of the bush's leaves and branches…
That's when he saw it.
If he had been using his normal eyes there was no way he would have noticed it. He certainly would not have noticed it in the dark. But Jim was not using his normal eyes.
It was hidden, nestled within the branches, below the outer layer of the bush. His shaking hand gently parted it from the branches and cradled it in his hands. Its silvery light shone brightly in the darkness, piercing even these eyes.
It was a single strand of ashen hair.
The little girl from the bridge.
Jim quickly turned around and followed the magical and red hot footprints out the backdoor. They all ended at the concrete. Jim slowly closed those eyes and opened his normal ones, looking around the dark street. He already knew what he was searching for and indeed, he quickly found it in a dark corner of a telephone pole.
It was a small brass casing that still had the faint smell of gunpowder residue. He turned it over in his palm. Jim recognized the cartridge.
It was an expended casing of a 9x19 Parabellum round.
Now, to be fair, the 9x19 Parabellum is a very common cartridge. It was used by a variety of firearms. In fact one could argue it was the most popular cartridge in the world for pistols and submachine guns.
Of the top of his head Jim could list several pistols, some he'd personally handled, others taught to him by the jackals:
Browning Hi-Power, Luger, CZ 75, some variants of Glocks, some TT models like the Zavasta M88, and of course the most obvious one…
The memory of the woman, with the magnificent flames swirling around her face, raising her pistol and aiming for his head through the dusty haze, came to Jim's mind.
…the entire Beretta 92 series.
Jim stood there for a long time and tried to understand what happened. He slowly formulated the series of events that must have occurred.
Woman comes home with killer. Killer kills woman. He does some magic stuff? Operative sneaks in and wait at the doorway while this happens. The girl with ashen hair sneaks in from the courtyard and hides on the ledge. Then the little girl uses the spell?
Wait…no, no, no.
Jim racked his head again.
The spell by the door was prepared. It was placed there before hand.
He reformed his train of thought.
So the little girl came in first.
She placed the spell, both by the doorway and on the backdoor. Then she snuck out and waited in the courtyard. Then woman comes home with killer. Operative follows in. Killer kills woman. He does magic stuff. Operative waits. Then little girl uses spell, drops the vase. This warns the killer. Killer runs.
Then operative chases serial killer…?
And little girl…walks around the house a bit?
Then she goes out the window?
Jim rubbed his temple in frustration. It was a bit messy but it was more-or-less coherent.
The point is, the little girl was…helping the serial killer? Warning him? Clearly she did not want him to get caught.
But how did the operative know? How did she know to come here?
Well I know to come here because I solved the script on the wall. She must have done the same. So she came here thinking that it must have been related to the girl.
Instead the operative saw the killer and didn't know what to do. So she waited and observed. But before she could get a chance to snatch him the little girl toppled the vase with the spell. This spooked the serial killer and he ran off. She didn't know that the little girl was by the window.
Then the little girl…walked around the house a bit and jumped out the window?
I guess?
It was good enough for Jim.
"Did you find anything, Jim?"
He was silent.
Yomikawa saw that Jim seemed to be deep in thought, as if he was slowly thinking something over. She directed her flashlight in his face. She saw the boy wincing at the bright light suddenly piercing his eyes.
"Did. You. Find. Anything?"
He scratched his head.
"No, ma'am…I didn't find anything."
"Nothing? Nothing at all? No footprints? Nothing?"
"No…"
She stood up.
"I'll take a look around. Either you are stupid or Suspect A is a master, I wonder which it is."
"You are stupid."
Jim shrugged his shoulders apologetically. The weight of the 9x19 Parabellum shell – tucked safely away in a pocket – suddenly felt immeasurably heavy. He saw that the lieutenant was deep in thought.
She probably didn't figure much out. After all, she can't see like I do…
"So ma'am, what did you find?"
"I found a lot. But it would be difficult to explain it separately. Let me walk you through it all from the beginning."
Jim patiently folded his arms across his chest. He highly doubted that Yomikawa would be able to deduce the series of events like he did. She had normal eyes and he had already tucked away the casing and the strand of hair.
There were basically no clues for her to work with.
She'll think Suspect A killed someone and ran off, plain and simple.
No operative.
Definitely no girl.
"So, Jim, before we start let's assign some names so that we're not confused. By my count there's at least four people involved, including the victim. Let's name them A, B, C and V. A is for Suspect A and V is for the victim."
Jim raised his eyebrows.
What…?
"This is how it all unfolded, Jim. First of all V is a sex worker. She brings A home. A strangles her. So far so good. Here's the interesting part. B lock picks the front door and sneaks in. B waits at the entrance. Maybe B is observing A. Then B accidentally trips the vase. A bolts for it and B follows him. A somehow shuts the backdoor in B's face, probably with magic. B shoots the door several times. Eventually B opens the door but by then A drove off. B gets in another car and gives chase."
Jim physically resisted the urge to let his mouth drop open.
"But it gets stranger! C, who has been standing by the window, sneaks inside and cleans up after A. Why? I don't know! Anyhow, while C was cleaning up B comes back through the backdoor! B tries to open the door, this time from the other side, but it's locked again. C escapes through a small window in the kitchen. B shoots the door and finally opens it but it's too late. Then B probably looked around a bit and then left. A long time later, we come in and find this mess. End of story."
Yomikawa rubbed her chin thoughtfully.
"There are a lot of gaps and guesswork, Jim, but this is my best theory right now. What do you think?"
Jim blinked slowly and seriously considered the possibility. He tried to clear his mind. Then, he looked her in the eye and let the thought mentally shoot through his head.
Yomikawa! Look behind you! It's the killer!?
But the Anti-Skill lieutenant just stared back at him.
Okay…I guess she's not a mind reader or something. You never know with those damn espers.
In any case, Jim wasn't sure if an esper's mind reading ability would work on him.
"Well?! What do you think, Jim?!" she asked impatiently.
"Um…I don't think it makes sense. Your theory is too elaborate. Okay, first of all are you even sure B exists? Why not just A? Also, how do you know B tripped the vase? What makes you think B stood at the entrance for a long time? Maybe A just tripped it while killing V? Maybe he started to strangle her at the doorway? Or it just fell?"
"Fair enough, I don't know for sure that B tripped it. However I am sure B exists. The reason is simple."
She shone her flashlight at a spot in the entrance. Jim's eyes widened.
"There is a pair of boot prints at the front entrance. I noticed that there were small particles of dust and dirt. It is very distinctive, exactly the type that a well-worn pair of tactical boots would make. Those boots always have deep grooves for extra friction. Those deep grooves always get stuffed with dust, crushed concrete and all manner of other debris. Our own boots are like that."
Yomikawa pointed at Jim and her own boots. They were wearing the same standard Anti-Skill boots.
"Jim, you just got issued a new one today and mine is clean. So the dust at the entrance must've came from B's boots. This confirms that B exists. Now, the reason I know B stood at a spot near the entrance for a long time is because there's a spot with a lot of dust and dirt. Clearly as B stood there all of the particles just came off by themselves. And also I know B gave chase because there is a trail of dust across the hallway and through the kitchen."
Jim grimaced internally. She was right. The red footprints were indeed those of a pair of tactical boots. The operative in the warehouse was wearing a pair of tactical boots.
"But ma'am, maybe the boots are from A?"
Yomikawa rolled her eyes. Her hands reached over and twisted his ears. Then she dragged Jim – whining loudly – over to the door way and shone her light on two pairs of shoes at the entrance.
"Jim, I know you are a foreigner but come on! Look! Here in Japan we take off our shoes when we enter a house. There are clearly two pairs of shoes here; one pair of high heels belonging to V and another pair of men's shoes belonging to A. So, no, A was not wearing boots. I saw you walking through the entrance when you were exploring around. Were your eyes closed or something?!"
Jim rubbed his stinging ears and considered carefully what he would say next. He needed to be careful to not let slip of any information. He also did not want to ask any leading questions.
"But, lieutenant! How do you know C exists? How do you know he cleaned up after A? Why not B? Maybe he cleaned up after A? And also the window! How do you know that C stood by the window until A and B ran off?"
"Woah, Doctor Jim, one question at a time. First of all, I know C exists. And I also happen to think that C is a girl…a small girl in fact."
Jim felt his heart stop beating.
"Well, probably more like a very small statured woman. A childish woman? I also know that she is…very polite. And unlike you, Jim, she is not a barbarian! She knows that one should take off their shoes when they enter a house."
"Wha –"
"Okay first the window. I admit it's a bit of a blind shot but it makes sense. One thing I do know is that she stood by the window. How do I know this? Because there's a pair of dirty slippers by the window. And you can clearly see a pair of dirty footprints on the ledge. I don't need special thermal vision or DNA mapping to see that."
The irony was stinging.
"I can also guess that C sneaked in through the window. Why? Because the window is unlocked. You can see that A and V had just gotten home. Maybe V unlocked it? Maybe V forgot to lock it? Who knows. However it's likely C opened it and gained entrance to the living room. You can actually still see it slightly open."
"But a girl? Small statured woman? Ho –"
"Blind guess, true, but come on! Look at the slippers. They are small and girlish. And judging by their size the person wearing them is very small. Unless she has super small feet, that is. Occam's razor, Jim."
"Her kid! Her own kid! V's daughter!"
"Nope. And don't say A is her husband. Look around Jim! Do you see any family pictures? Look at the placard at the front door. It's written with the family name and all of the inhabitants. It's a Japanese custom. And there's only one name listed on it. V's name. So A and C are definitely not family members. Also you checked upstairs, right? No sign of a kid's room, right?"
She was right.
"But C escaping through the window? How?"
"Oh right Jim, I was going to mention that. On that note, I have to say that you are seriously quite dumb!"
They walked out of the house and circled to the back. It was the place where Jim had found the flattened grass and the girl's strand of hair.
She shined the flashlight at the area of flattened grass.
"Now Jim, where did you grow up? In the city? In a village?"
"I was…in the city until I was about ten. Then I moved to the country."
"So you've been around the woods? Know your way around the forest?"
"Yes…kind of."
"Well Jim, I'll admit that I'm a city girl through and through, but I don't need to be some master tracker in order to know that somebody jumped out of the window and landed here. And also, look at how small that window is! An adult would not fit through that. Only a child or small woman. Or a midget. A dwarf? Something like that. Another point for my theory."
Yomikawa flashed her light to the tall bushes.
Jim felt his heartbeat shooting up.
"I thought maybe C would run into some bushes and get her hair caught or something. But no luck. I guess C had short hair. Perhaps a male midget! Or a dwarf? I don't know which is the better term. Anyways, no leads there."
"Then how do you know B chased A? And shooting the door? What?"
"Jim…seriously, were your eyes closed? Are you blind?"
She dragged him over to the backdoor. The moment her flashlight landed on it he realized why she had formed that conclusion. Jim cursed himself for only using his other pair of eyes to check the scene.
He did not use his normal eyes.
The door handle was charred black. Pieces of metal and wood were twisted off or had burst open. Clearly someone had shot at the handle. Multiple times.
"See, Jim? B was shooting at it. And it's more likely to be B because of the tactical boots. And you can see this from both sides. So clearly B tried to open it twice. Once from the inside, and the other time from the outside."
She picked up several empty casings from the nearby grass. The one in Jim's trousers now felt like a weightless feather. He should not have relied so much on his other eyes.
"Look, Jim. 9x19 Parabellum. B was using a handgun. Probably suppressed, because the call mentioned no gunshot. Also if someone was shooting so much without a suppressor, the neighbors would hear it and call us right away."
"But magic! You said A sealed the door with magic!"
"Yes, I did. I don't expect you to know this but I do. I recognize this model of door handle and the lock. I can also tell you with 100% certainty that the door was not actually locked when B pried it open. So either A was pushing against it to hold it or it was sealed by magic. And judging by where B was shooting A definitely was not leaning against it. And C is a small…person. A small person would not be good at the holding the door with their body weight."
"But why magic? It's –"
Jim knew because he saw the magical symbol.
How did Yomikawa…
"Well, you know how it is, Jim. If it's not science then it's magic. It hand waves everything! Very convenient when you can't come up with something logical. I admit it's one of the weakest point of my theory."
Jim began to say something but suddenly stopped himself.
His eyes widened. He suddenly remembered the earlier afternoon, when they were both in the car. He remembered what she had said when she had ordered him to clean the toilet. He remembered a phrase in particular that she had used.
'What, you think Suspect A is a super spy or something? You think he's the Pope with his Vatican magicians?'
Her voiced echoed in his head.
'You think he's the Pope with his Vatican magicians?'
He narrowed his eyes.
'…his Vatican magicians?'
She was poking around the busted door handle.
"Yomikawa…"
The lieutenant stopped in her tracks when she heard his voice. Jim was no longer speaking in his cadet voice. Instead a mongrel was addressing her. She turned slowly, with a raised eyebrow, and saw that his face had formed into a deadly serious expression.
Frankly she found it quite comical.
"Yes, what is it, Mr. I-am-just-a-dumb-cadet-until-I-get-serious-and-talk-with-a-super-duper-low-voice-so-you-know-that-I-am-being-super-duper-serious? What do you want, eh?!"
"How…how do you know about magic?"
Ah, she realized, I let my tongue slip.
Yomikawa immediately remembered what she had said in the car. But it was pointless. Her words were already out there. It was better to put out this fire.
"I was just kidding, Jim. I don't know how the door was held close."
"No…you said something else. This afternoon, while we were in the car. You said the phrase 'the Pope and his Vatican magicians.' How…how do you know that?"
They both knew what he was talking about.
Magic was a secret hidden from the world. It was one of the best kept secrets, considering how far its reach was and how long and how extensive it had been practiced. All magicians knew that they must never practice magic in front of common people, lest they too, want to learn it for themselves.
There were – broadly speaking – only two groups of people – other than magicians themselves – in the world who knew of the existence of magic.
One group was people in positons of power, most commonly the politicians of the highest level of governments.
The other group was intelligence officers.
Intelligence officers from various services around the world knew, especially those serving in the Academy City's black intelligence service. They had to. These people came across magic quite often in their work.
Jim was just a mongrel, yes, but the jackals held everyone to high standards, even mongrels. Especially mongrels. That's why Academy City's black service was so successful.
And to be successful you had to know about your potential opponents.
While Jim had already known – quite vaguely, to be fair, almost superstitiously – about magic before being recruited by the jackals, he certainly did not understand the concept of magic and magicians as he did now.
He certainly did not know that the Vatican City made extensive use of magicians as a paramilitary force in order to further the magical interests of the Catholic Church. He only learned about this after the jackals had recruited him and began training him to be an intelligence officer.
The Anti-Skill lieutenant standing in front of him had no business knowing about magic, let alone about the Vatican City's magicians.
But Lieutenant Yomikawa Aiho just made a long face.
"Oh really? So you remember me saying that one particular line like a true professional but couldn't see the fucking door handle? Seriously? Well, good to know! Because next time I need you to do something important I'll make sure to order you around in relations to the toilet. Then maybe you'll actually use your damn eyes or something."
Then, just to tease him, she swore loudly:
"Jesus Christ!"
Jim was not amused.
Yomikawa simply smiled.
"Now, while you're standing there with your I'm-not-kidding-this-is-serious-please-take-me-seriously-even-though-I-always-pretend-to-be-a-dumbass-cadet expression, let me walk you through the rest of my deductions. I said A drove off and B gave chase, right? Well I know that because there are some tire marks on the pavement just outside the backdoor. Clearly A had parked his car there beforehand – proof of premediated murder – and drove off in a hurry, accelerating suddenly."
She smiled at how he was trying to keep a straight face.
"Now how do I know that B gave chase, also in a car? Well, to put it simply, unlike a certain Mr. I-pretend-to-be-a-dumb-cadet-until-I-get-serious-then-I-acutally-becomes-a-stupid-cadet-who-walks-around-with-his-eyes-closed-but-I-still-think-I'm-such-a-badass, this Lieutenant Yomikawa Aiho actually pays attention. Even when there seems to be nothing happening."
She smacked him on the head.
"That is how I noticed that there was a pair of tire marks near where we had parked the patrol car. I also noticed that the car parked there – a van of some sort, judging by the tires' spacing – had an oil leak. The car parked there also accelerated suddenly and took off in the same direction as A's car. And you can also see the same puddle of oil in the back of the house, showing that the driver came back again before driving off. Since we know B was chasing A, the logical answer is that the van is B's car! It is, at the very least, a reasonable guess."
Jim just gave up. His mouth simply dropped open. Yomikawa giggled at his expression and proudly directed him towards the living room.
"Now follow me please, Mr…hobo canine, and I'll tell you why I think C cleaned up after A."
The lieutenant waved her hands around the victim's body in a sweeping motion.
Jim saw that it was glowing green, just as he had saw with his other eyes. The color, however, was different. And this time he was seeing it with his normal eyes. He turned to look at Yomikawa.
Jim realized what the acidic smell in the kitchen was.
"Yes," she said, "it's urine."
She handed him the LED UV flashlight and he swept it over the living room as well. He could see the faint green trail leading from the living room to the kitchen.
"Personally I think it's cat urine, probably that of a black cat, but of course I can't say that for certain without testing. The cat part, I meant. I doubt we can specifically test for a black cat."
"A…black cat, ma'am?"
"Yes. Or a white one. Or a magical one. Or the Pope's cat. Don't ask me why, but magicians have to believe in such things for their spells to work. But I know for certain that it's urine. Blood and semen usually show up in a different color. At least we know that A didn't…defile the victim. Instead of a pervert we have a religious nut."
Jim wondered why Yomikawa had the LED UV flashlight on her. Well, to be fair, it made perfect sense. Such a tool was very useful for seeing hidden bloodstains. It was only natural an Anti-Skill officer would carry it on her.
What on earth does she carry with her, the entire fucking armory?
"Just like you said Jim, it's some sort of a moral thing. Some magician is going around killing people for their depraved morals. This victim's a sex worker, so the angle must be sexual depravity."
"But...cleaning up? Cleaning up? How…"
"Couple of things. Look at the sink in the kitchen, Jim. No, not with your eyes. And also, now you use your eyes? Ugh. I meant with the UV flashlight!"
Jim flashed it over the kitchen sink. It was glowing bright green, even stronger than the stain in the living room. He saw that there was a small container of liquid in the sink. He brought his nose closer and looked away in disgust.
It stank of urine.
Jim wondered why he didn't see this with his other pair of eyes. It was probably because the urine by itself was not inherently magical. The urine by itself did not have any energy or essence attached to it.
"A was probably using the urine to…oh I don't know, draw a magic circle or some magician nonsense like that. Anyways, C clearly dumped the stuff in the sink and was trying to wash it away."
"But why C? Why not B? Or A?"
Yomikawa smiled.
"Jim…tell me where the soap is."
He pointed at the bottle of liquid soap next to the kitchen sink. She rolled her eyes.
"Well, it's there now. But imagine that if it wasn't there, where would you look for it? Put yourself in someone else's shoes, someone trying to clean the crime scene. And there's no soap."
Jim's eyes slowly looked over the kitchen's drawers and cupboards. He realized that they had already been opened.
"That's right Jim, there's nothing there. Nothing below the sink. Where do you look next?"
He flashed his flashlight over the sink. There were other cabinets; some of which hung overhead, above the kitchen counter. The light stopped at a particular section. Jim spied several bottles of liquid soap placed on top of the overhead cupboards.
"Now, try to reach it with your hands."
Jim was not the tallest person, for a seventeen year old teenage boy he was just about average. He found that even when he was standing on his toes, he was barely tall enough and his arms barely long enough to reach for a bottle.
"No, no, don't actually take one. Don't disturb the crime scene. Now Jim, what would you do if you were shorter? Let's say…two feet shorter? And your arms were also shorter?"
"Um…I'd get a chair? Something to stand on?"
Yomikawa smiled and flashed her light to his front. He saw that there was already a chair taken from the dining table. And it was placed right in front of where the overhead cabinet with the soap bottles were.
Just like what a small girl would do …
"Now, time for a pop quiz! Of the people A, B, C and V, who is most likely to be the shortest?"
…if she was trying to reach for the soap bottles on the overhead cabinet.
"...C? The girl? The small girl?"
She nodded with a knowing smile.
The lieutenant quickly directed her beam of light towards the small kitchen window high up on the wall. It was where the girl had jumped out onto the grass from.
There was also a chair propped beneath it.
"And that is how she jumped out. B suddenly came back and started banging on the door, shooting at it and what not, so C had to get a chair and jump out the window!"
Yomikawa suddenly stopped herself.
"So let's just say, for hypothesis's sake, that B couldn't catch A because of a magic spell on the door. So if B couldn't get in even after A was already gone..."
Jim saw a dangerous light flashing across her eyes.
"Then C must have cast that spell! Yes, it makes perfect sense. Of course. Of course C must be a magician as well. After all, why would she clean up after A? It's the magician's code, right? They work with each other to prevent common people from learning about magic. Yes, it makes perfect sense! Perfect sense!"
It didn't but Jim felt his chest heavy with dread regardless.
"Yes, yes…so that was why C was standing by the window! She was a lookout! A lookout for A to commit his crime. An accomplice! Wait, on that note it makes no sense for B to trip that vase. If B is the type to wear tactical boots and wield a suppressed pistol then B surely would not make such a sloppy mistake. Surely C must have toppled the vase with…ah…magic! Magic! A spell! Like the one on the door!"
It was a wild guess but Jim saw the idea was taking hold within her mind.
She held up her finger triumphantly.
"Yes, yes, C must have been warning A about B!"
The lieutenant was excitedly pacing around the kitchen, her head held low with concentration. She muttered quickly to herself, as if she was a genious detective from a novel lost in her own world of deductions.
Jim just stared at her.
"Yomikawa…who are you?"
"What? What did you say?"
"I said, who the fuck are you?"
"What kind of a question is that? And I'm not sure I like your tone, Mr. I-am-just-a-cadet!"
"I know what I asked. Who the fuck are you?"
"Woah, woah! Watch your tone, little boy! And I am just a normal Anti-Skill officer, Lieutenant Yomikawa Aiho of Anti-Skill Branch 73!"
"I don't give a shit about my tone. And you're just a normal Anti-Skill lieutenant as much as I'm just a normal Anti-Skill cadet!"
A shadowy smile spread across her face.
She began speaking to him in a voice he did not recognize.
"Well, I think you've just answered your own question there, didn't you, Jakov?"
The entire world stopped when Jim heard that name.
The hair on the back of his neck began to rise just like the times when he was in the Woods. Jim carefully studied the woman standing in the dark in front of him. Although she wore the uniform of an Anti-Skill officer, he recognized her as no such thing.
Jim was not talking to Yomikawa.
"Didn't your new station chief tell you who I am?"
He recognized that glint in her eye: that cold, shadowy smile on her face. He had seen it many times before.
Sometimes he saw it across a street on a pedestrian. Sometimes he saw it scrunched in concentration, illuminated by only a flashlight, bend over a map.
But most of all he saw it in the dingy barbershop in Sofia, when they met and decided the fates of entire nations over a cup of tea.
And they always belonged to the same group of people: the people had picked him up from Krakohzia. They had reached their hands out him and gave him a chance to work in the shadows.
It was the same eyes he saw in that small, suffocating basement heavy with the smell of freshly carved wood, surrounded by thousands and thousands of blank wooden dolls.
She smiled like a jackal.
"No, you're wrong. I don't smile like a jackal. I am not one of you. I don't don the black. In any case, I'm sure your new station chief has also told you that I'm not a snake. If he is anyone worth his salt, that is. Regardless, both statements are true."
She rolled her eyes when she saw his expression.
"Now, while I find this suggestion terribly offensive, I must address it and assure you that no, I can't read your mind. I don't need dirty little tricks like that."
"But my name…how…?"
"Please, there is no need to be so surprised. Yes, I know it's written Jim I. Ivanov on all of your school papers, even on the Anti-Skill file. I checked, of course, all personally. But I hardly need access to your personal file from the black ones to know that the name on your Bulgarian passport is – terribly uncreative, by the way – Jakov Ivanov Ivanov."
Her smile grew wider.
"So, please, don't be so astonished. I'm sure the jackals from…hmm, let's see…Sofia? The Sofia station? I know the black ones have a big station in Sofia. Well, I know for certain it's either Varna or Sofia, and you don't look like someone from Varna. Let's settle on Sofia then."
She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.
"Anyhow, I'm sure they told you to change it to an anglicized version before coming here. To avoid attention, of course. After all, with Jim you could pass as some generic white kid, but with Jakov you would be an exotic Eastern European kid. It would certainly be problematic if the snakes mistook you for a Russian. But that would never happen. The jackals would never let the white ones touch one of their own. Without their own blessings, that is."
She paused briefly.
"To be fair, you don't look very white."
She tapped her fingers on her lips.
"You look quite mixed actually. Some variety of Central Asian, perhaps? Tatar? I'm not sure if Crimean Tatars look very Asian these days, but what would I know? Then Dagestani, perhaps? Georgian? Azerbaijani? Armenian? No, no, I'm getting too far, aren't I. Let's see…since your passport is Bulgarian, it should be somewhere close by, somewhere to the west side of the Black Sea. That makes you either some form of Turkish or, more likely…"
Her eyes twinkled with mischievous excitement.
"…Krakozh? From Krakozhia?"
The blood drained from Jim's face.
"Oh course! You're Krakozh! It's the obvious choice! Of course it would be Bulgaria's next door neighbor, Krakozhia! I heard that they'd just finished fighting a bloody civil war a couple of years ago. There'd be plenty of child soldiers for the black ones to recruit. I'm sure that's how you became a mongrel. Oh, my poor Yashen'ka!"
She narrowed her eyes and her fiendish smile widened.
"But you're too easy to read, Yashen'ka, you really are. You managed it so well too, when we were in the interrogation room. You won't last very long in the field otherwise. You shouldn't make such a face just because some nasty lieutenant from your Anti-Skill cover is stating some incredibly obvious facts. What will you do if the snakes get their hands on you? Or your own jackals? You're such a poor, unfortunate boy, my dear Yashen'ka."
The quiet hum of their flashlights overwhelmed everything else in the kitchen like the deafening waves crashing against the rocks.
Jim stared at her.
And the abyss gazed back.
He thought to say something, to do something against her arrogance dominating the entire room, but his arm began screeching again. Jim could only focus on staying still in the darkness as to not betray his pain.
But luckily for the mongrel he didn't need to do anything; the silence in the kitchen was graciously broken by the faint sound of a wardrobe creaking open.
-x-
First uploaded: 7/12/2020
Last modified: 2/8/2021
Wordcount: 7,964
Changelog:
2/8/2021 – Minor edits.
2/4/2021 – General edits and final cleanup (hopefully). Fixed mistake with Jim's age.
15/3/2021 – General edits.
7/3/2021 – Cut chapter into two. Removed obnoxious author's notes, both at the top and bottom. Understandable, yes, but still obnoxious. Changed "Jatenko" to "Yashen'ka". Added stuff to exposé. Added barbershop (lol).